


"Lucky You"

by SmutShipper



Category: Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Next Generation (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance, Teasing, possible major character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:48:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28946169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmutShipper/pseuds/SmutShipper
Summary: At the end of "Star Trek: Picard," Jean-Luc finds himself with a new lease on life. But when a past trauma that had been buried deep begins to ebb to the surface, Picard wonders if this is more of a penance than a gift.This story deals heavily with the Picard/Beverly relationship. Jumps back and forth in time a bit, so be prepared. It's an angsty look at what might have happened post-Star Trek: Nemesis and fits into the Star Trek: Picard timeline. I really hated that Beverly wasn't even mentioned, so I'm trying to fix that. There is a possible major character death (no spoilers), lots of sex, tons of angst, some heartwarming surprises and more!This is a work in progress - not sure how many chapters this will be, but feedback is much appreciated!
Relationships: Beverly Crusher/Jean-Luc Picard
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	1. Bliss & Breaking

Perfection. Utter, exquisite perfection. Those were the words that rattled through his pleasure-riddled mind as he lay on his side facing the woman he’d longed for over far too many years. Despite their age, the act was no less intense – though a great deal of thanks was due to modern medicine. He smiled at his good fortune – his beloved also happened to be one of the most brilliant doctors in the known universe.

She was so wet, so tight, so warm around him … his mechanical heart felt ready to burst, along with another part of him. They held each other close, smiling playfully, facing each other as they rocked together slowly on their sides, enjoying the prolongment of their union. There was no way to get any closer, but they tried anyway, pulling their torsos tight to each other as their lower halves pushed and pulled. 

Their movements created a gentle lapping noise, their combined wetness sounding like insistent kisses as his achingly hard member slid back and forth over her outer lips before reentering to dip into her depths. Their mouths were parted, their foreheads pressed together, as if trying to recapture some mental link. Deep shuddering breaths gave way to quick, gentle kisses. But they wanted to speak, to hear the desires of the other, silenced for far too many years. The words of love needed to spill out as much as their bodies’ desires, wet and hot and trembling with need.

Laughter, tears, cries of desperation. It all went on and on as they were determined to make it last through the night. It was rare to have so much time to themselves, to love each other in this way. Especially after all that had happened. While many would want to lose themselves in the feeling of sexual pleasure, the union of these two unique individuals always went deeper, dragging out hidden aches and fears along the way, exposing their thoughts just as their lovemaking exposed their bodies - the sensitive areas, the nerves that were set on edge. It’s why they often tried to make it last.

And in this moment, as he was on the edge with her, his thoughts trailed to how much he felt he had let her down. He was no longer an Admiral, no longer in Starfleet, and his last mission had ended in utter ruin. Would she look at him differently now? Perhaps she should. He felt tears prick his eyes as he beheld her beauty, feeling completely unworthy of her.

“You are not a failure,” Beverly declared firmly, as if reading his mind, squeezing her internal muscles around his throbbing member to emphasize her point. He gave her a quizzical look. “I could see it in your eyes…you were thinking about the Romulan rescue mission.”

Sighing, he looked away. “I’m sorry…it’s just…when I’m with you like this, I feel…safe. And … in that safety, it is as if my mind compels me to tell you all the things I keep hidden in the dark … the things that most shame me, that I don’t want you to see. But when we’re like this… I cannot hide.”

“You don’t have to show your feelings to the world, Jean-Luc…you can still hide. You can hide in me.”

His bottom lip quivered as he let a tear escape, streaking down his cheek. “My hiding place,” he smiled, kissing her lightly as he pulled back only to thrust deep, circling his hips, grinding against her and within her in an almost desperate effort to get closer.

“I love you,” she whispered gently, caressing his face. “We will get through this … together.”

Nodding, he ducked his head, a sob ripping from his throat as she held him gently to her chest. His body shuddered from both his pleasure and his weeping as he let out his emotions, her warmth covering him with a comfort he’d never known. She continued to move her hips, whispering her assurances that she was here, she was with him, that they would both be alright. The pleasure and the pain mixed to an exquisite peak that held them on the brink. Finally unable to stand it, he moved to look her in the eye.

“Please…don’t leave me,” he begged.

Now it was her turn to give him a confused look.

“Jean-Luc, I’m not going anywhere,” she rasped, smoothing her fingers over his cheek to wipe away his tears.

“I cannot bear to lose you,” he confessed, his chest tight with fear. “It would be the end of me.”

“You won’t lose me,” she said softly, reaching down to run her fingers through the hairs on his chest, gliding over his heart. She could feel it pounding. “Why are you afraid now? Is it because of Q? The future he showed you?”

“No,” Picard shook his head. “It’s just … we’ve both lost so much. And I don’t think you know how much you mean to me, Beverly.”

“Then show me,” she smiled, kissing him gently. Seizing on her words, he pulled her tightly to him, rolling onto his back as he slid his tongue over her lips, then entered her mouth. Hot, open-mouthed kissed turned urgent as he did all the work, thrust up into her from below. His hand moved to where they were joined, gathering wetness and slicking up over her engorged lips to the peak of her pleasure.

“Ohhh,” she moaned into his mouth as he tickled her clit with his middle finger, his cock spearing upward.

“I … love…you…” he whimpered breathlessly, moving faster below her as she began to match his rhythm. 

“Jean-Luc!” she cried as he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her that sent her hurtling over the edge. Her inner walls pulsed and gripped him tightly, her wetness spilling over him. Picard convulsed with her, but moved his hand from her hip to grab the base of his cock, preventing his own release.

Her orgasm went on for a minute, her trembling turning to soft sobs as she realized he hadn’t cum with her.

“Jean-Luc,” she whispered, her voice low with arousal. “It’s alright, you don’t have to wait any longer.”

“I don’t want this to end,” he sighed, tears in his eyes. “You are so beautiful … so exquisite. I love watching you spend.” Moving again, he lightly flickered his fingers over her sensitive clit, feeling her pussy clasp him tightly.

“God, Jean-Luc!” she screamed, her hands pressing onto his chest, unconsciously rubbing against his hardened nipples.

“Cum for me, Beverly,” he urged, his stomach tightening and his cock jerking as he felt her become impossibly hotter around him.

“Yes!” she cried, bending back, thrusting her breasts forward as she convulsed in pleasure, totally flush and dripping wet. Mid-orgasm, she leaned forward, circling her hips and squeezing hard on his cock.

“Now…you…” she gasped, staring into his eyes as she worked his cock with an unbearable friction.

“Oh Beverly…oh god…ohhhh..ohhhhh,” he moaned, giving up the battle. Biting his lower lip, he arched upward as he felt his release rising, his cock sending sparks of pleasure through his whole body. For a moment, he stopped breathing and opened his eyes to see her smiling down at him as he gave in to release. She undid him in ways that made him squirm and yet feel more love than he had ever hoped to receive.

He screamed her name as he came, his hot liquid coating her inner walls. The intensity of the orgasm made him tremble and moan and weep as she leaned over him, holding his cheek to her lips as she whispered words of love and encouragement.

It was a perfect moment. It was the night their first child was conceived. But something told him it couldn’t last. Fear gripped him as he pulled her closer, squeezing his eyes shut. The sun was coming up, light beaming through the drawn curtains. 

“Please…” he whimpered, finding himself unable to open his eyes. Then he felt it … felt her slipping, sliding away from him, leaving him.

“No…” he cried, the beam from the sun blinding him as the perfect moment broke.

Shattered.

“Nooo!” Jean-Luc cried, sitting up in the darkness of his room in LaBarre, France. It was 2399. He lay on the left side of the bed, the other side achingly empty. Immediately, Number One ran to him, licking at his hand that was hanging over the mattress.

“It’s alright,” he whimpered, slowing his breathing as he reached down to pet his companion. “It’s alright.”

But it wasn’t alright. Ever since he had taken up residence in his new body – this synthetic Golem - giving him a second life, his mind seemed set on tormenting him with all the grief he had repressed in his last days. He had been waiting to die…it was inevitable. No need to think about the most painful of partings when he soon would be departing from this life. 

Being without her for the past seven years had been intolerable, had forced him to purge every image, every memory from his mind – the few friends he had left dared not speak her name for fear of plunging him back into the dark depression that bore down on him. He could allow himself the luxury of grieving for Data - in some ways, it helped refocus his pain. Yet while he loved Data, he hadn’t been in love with Data. It was a far different thing to lose half your soul. And now he had far too many years ahead of him to face that reality.

He remembered the blue butterfly that flew into his room while he was being held captive on Coppelius - right before what he thought would be "the end." How it landed on his finger, its wings fluttering gently as he led it to the window. The color of its wings changed, but always reverted back to that blue that reminded him of Beverly's old Starfleet Uniform and lab coat. It had been so long since he'd allowed himself to think of her, but he figured he was nearing the end, and perhaps this was somehow a sign from her - that there was peace on the other side. He was not a religious man by any means, never prone to superstition, but there was a tiny part of him that held out hope he might see her in the afterlife. 

He had gazed in awe at the beautiful creature, it's blue wings making his heartache - blue, that's what he'd been since she'd gone. As he set the butterfly free, he sighed, "Lucky you." And perhaps in that moment he thought Beverly was lucky - lucky she hadn't lived to see this day, to see him fail again. He was giving up hope. That is, until another doctor in a blue lab coat broke into his room, rambling about rescue and saving the day. 

On the La Sirena, he and Dr. Agnes Jurati worked together, with help from his old, dear friend Wil and, surprisingly, the federation, to keep yet another apocalyptic event from befalling humanity. And as he fell out of the captain's chair, he cried, "Doctor!" Agnes had run to his side, not realizing he was not calling for her. Picard knew his time was up - no doctor could help him. The only doctor he had ever needed was on the other side, and he desperately wanted to join her. As they transported him to the planet, he saw his newfound crew and knew the future was in good hands. He could go now, see what lay beyond the pale - hoping Beverly just might be there to greet him on the other side. 

Then he found Data instead, and was moved beyond words to see his dear friend again. It was what his last mission had been predominantly about - doing right by his old friend. His heart leapt, thinking maybe he would see Beverly again after all. But he learned he wasn't dead - only held in flux until his consciousness could be transferred. He had been ready to die, yet now he had his life back – well, a life back. He was happy at the time, but was now coming to find he had sorely underestimated how painful it would be. 

Burying his head in his hands, Picard allowed himself a few moments of grief from his most recent dream before giving in to Number One’s insistence. Smoothing his hand over the made side of the bed, he shook his head and gently petted his furry companion. Rising slowly, Picard headed toward the window, pushing back the curtains to allow the sunlight to break into the room where he and Beverly used to lay. Looking out over the vineyard, he wondered how he would cope if these vivid dreams and memories continued to torment him...

TO BE CONTINUED...


	2. Settling Down & Heating Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picard builds a home and a family. Some steamy lovemaking ensues. (Though not for reasons you'd expect ;)). But present-day Picard is finding it harder to deal with these sudden, vivid memories. Angst & sex be here! See the end of the chapter for a few notes...

2399, LaBarre, France

Gazing out over his family’s vineyard, Picard watched as the workers began to till the soil and gather the grapes for the latest Chateau Picard vintage. He would only be here a short time, to tie up some odds and ends before embarking on his next mission, whatever that would be. Though the future was uncertain, he’d been given a second chance, and he couldn’t squander it. It’s what she would have wanted.

It was harvest season – the grapes were ripe and ready to plucked. He recalled a harvest several years before…

2390, Chateau Picard

Beverly was walking through the vines, smiling as she showed this world to the little boy in her arms. The four-year-old giggled and watched her closely, his grey eyes mirroring the wonder his father had when he would look up at the stars. She ruffled his strands of red hair and kissed his cheek as she whispered something into his ear that made the boy laugh. 

“Would you care to share?” Picard smiled as he made his way toward his family. 

“What do you think, Rene? Should we tell your father our little secret?” Beverly smirked, watching the boy ponder for a moment before shaking his head.

“Here, give him to me,” Picard said, reaching out his arms. “I think I can get some answers,” he teased as he tickled the squirming boy in his arms.

Beverly smoothed a hand over her stomach, caressing their second child still growing within as she admired the simplicity of the scene. 

“I don’t know, Jean-Luc, he’s pretty stubborn, like his father,” she grinned.

“Oh, really?” he said, handling the child carefully while arching an eyebrow. “Not an ounce of stubbornness from his mother’s genes then, eh?”

“Perhaps,” she conceded.

“Well perhaps I should try to get this little secret out of you,” he declared, shuffling the boy to his right arm as he pulled Beverly to him, kissing her gently.

Instead of recoiling, their son gazed at his parents thoughtfully, then lunged to place a kiss on his mother’s cheek. 

“Hey there,” Picard laughed, pulling Rene back. “Wait your turn, young man.”

“Yes sir,” the boy smiled, seeing the teasing look in his father’s eyes. Finally setting him down, the boy clutched his mother’s leg, standing on his tiptoes to kiss her belly. 

“When is she coming out to play?” Rene asked, looking up expectantly at his mother.

“Oh, it won’t be long,” she replied, smoothing his cheek.

“Perhaps that was what the secret was all about?” Picard posed, still intrigued.

“A good guess, but not quite,” Beverly replied. “C’mon, Rene, you want to tell him?”

Thinking for a moment, he looked between his mother and father. “OK,” he declared firmly. Placing his hands behind his back, he turned to his father.

“Mommy said Wesy’s coming here in a few days!” he exclaimed. Beverly smiled at the unintentional nickname Rene had given his older brother, dropping the “l” from his name.

“Ah, that’s wonderful!” Picard smiled, kneeling down to meet his son at eye level. His bones ached a bit, and at times he wished he and Beverly had gotten together sooner, started a family at a younger age. But that would’ve been a different time, and a far different upbringing for their children – life on a Starship could be filled with peril. As he gazed into his son’s eyes, he realized there was no room for regrets. Everything he needed now was standing before him.

“I think Rene is a bit excited to see his big brother again,” Beverly commented. 

“Yes, it’s been too long since Wesley came for a visit. Almost two years now.”

“His work keeps busy,” Beverly sighed. “And his family.”

“Will Tasha and Jack be coming too?” the boy asked, eyes wide at the prospect of having other children to play with.

“I think so,” Beverly said with a grin, ruffling Rene’s hair. 

Rene shouted with joy, jumping into his father’s arms and sending him tumbling backward.

“Jean-Luc!” Beverly exclaimed.

“I’m alright,” he chuckled, letting the boy sit on his stomach as he laid down flat on the ground. “Now, take it easy on the old man, eh?”

“Yes, sir,” he giggled, giving his father a peck on the cheek before standing up. He stretched out his small hand, offering to help his father up. Beverly outstretched her hands as well, her eyes soft with a tinge of sadness.

“It’s quite alright,” he sighed, taking both their hands as he stood up. “I’m fine,” he whispered into Beverly’s ear as he pulled her close, kissing her gently. She ran her hand over his smooth head, nodding. 

“Dinner!” a voice called. Rene looked up excitedly at his parents, who both nodded and gestured for him to head back to the house. They watched as his little legs sped down the dirt path, seeing him leap into the arms of Laris, one of their trusted caretakers on the vineyard. 

“He’s a runner, like his father,” Beverly quipped, wrapping an arm around his waist as they followed their son’s trail. Picard smiled.

“Ten years ago, I never would have imagined any human child leaping happily into the arms of a Romulan,” he mused.

“A lot can happen in ten years,” Beverly grinned, kissing him on the cheek. 

They both knew the weight of that statement. Just over ten years ago, Data had died saving his life, and Beverly had left to run Starfleet Medical. It was a low-point in Picard’s life, made worse when the federation informed him Beverly had been reported missing and presumed dead while on, of all things, an undercover mission to Romulus. Upon finding her alive – he would never claim he rescued her, for she ended up saving both their lives once he located her – he was moved to lay his heart bare before her, to say the words he should have said years before. It had terrified her at first, but she came around and decided it was better to live in truth and happiness then in fear and regret. 

“Jean-Luc?” Beverly called, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I was just thinking you’re right.”

“Oh?”

“A lot can happen in 10 years, and in many ways I’m very happy with how things turned out – being here with you, Renee and our petite fille on the way. But in others … I look at Laris and Zhabon, and I wish I could’ve done more for their people.”

“Jean-Luc, don’t do this to yourself,” she warned, placing a hand over his heart. “We have been helping as much as we can with the resources we have.”

“Well, no more rescue missions for you for awhile,” he declared, gazing down at her belly. “Do you regret leaving Starfleet?”

“Jean-Luc, what has gotten into you?” she asked. 

“I’m just wondering if you’re happy here … with me…”

His heavy sigh gave her pause. “Jean-Luc, look at me. We’re both getting older, and I’m quite happy with the family we’ve become. You are a wonderful father, and a very generous partner. You’re my best friend, my lover...” her hand trailed across his chest, giving him a seductive smile that made him blush. “All the things I feared so long ago have faded in comparison to the life we have now. And I still have my private practice, and the occasional excursion into space for a mission of mercy or two…I’m very happy.”

Ducking his head, Picard wiped away an errant tear as he nodded in appreciation. She moved her hand up to his back, rubbing it gently.

“What about you, Jean-Luc?”

“Hmm?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Are you happy?” Her eyes showed concern, and he hated that he put that look there. He was determined to dispel it as soon as possible.

“Immensely,” he reassured her, grasping her hand and kissing it. “You have shown me a joy I thought was far past my time. You have given me so much…I can no longer imagine my life without you in it. Truth be told, I’m incredibly selfish when it comes to you, Beverly. I ache when you leave on those blasted missions, or even for your work at the clinics. I love that you do it, but I miss you.”

“So should I assume this,” she said with a smile, gesturing to her pregnant belly, “was just a ploy to keep around.”

“Well, it certainly is a big perk,” he grinned, leaning in close. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing her cheek.

“I never thought you would turn out to be such a romantic,” she laughed.

“It’s easy when I’m with you,” he sighed. “Now we really should be getting back to the house. Laris will tear into me if the food gets cold.”

“And with good reason, she’s a wonderful cook,” Beverly smiled.

“I’d like to do some cooking of my own later, if you’re interested, doctor,” he teased.

“It’s the last trimester – you KNOW I’m interested,” she grinned.

“Mmm, splendid,” he replied, raising his eyebrows.

Dinner was eaten in haste that evening, and Laris, reading the room, agreed to put Rene to bed so the two could share the evening alone.

Picard was always amazed at how easily Beverly ignited his passions. They could spend hours in bed, exploring each other. For some reason, she seemed to have a particular fondness for his torso, her hands always lingering to tease or tickle. He let her play, let her have her way with him – it was the least he could do for all the happiness she brought him. And it was no small pleasure for him, either. Her tempting and teasing brought him to heights of passion he only dreamed of in his youth. 

“Beverly, please,” he begged, trying to stifle his laughter as Beverly made use of her favorite tool of torment – a feather. Never had he imagined such a simple thing could undo him, though he knew it was more due to the woman wielding it. Over his chest, circling his belly button, down his ticklish sides, sliding to a sensitive spot in the crease of his thigh, the feather aroused his flesh, making him flush as he looked into the eyes of its wielder. Mischief and joy danced in her blue orbs as Beverly straddled him and pondered which spot to tickle next.

“Just getting you back for tickling our son earlier,” she grinned, gripping the base of his cock and licking her lips. Leaning down, she swiped at the pearl of precum perched at the tip, causing him to shiver.

“I think you’ve made your point,” he gasped, seeing where she was headed with the feather. His eyes widened as she peeled back his foreskin. “Oh, Beverly, not there … please…”

She frowned in disappointment, looking up at him and biting her lip seductively. She had lost her bra a long time ago, but her lace panties still hugged her form. While her belly hung heavy and pregnant, he could still get a glimpse between her legs to see the wet patch between her thighs. 

“Why do you enjoy tormenting me so?” he asked with a slight grin, reaching down to caress her dampness over her panties.

“Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy this,” she smirked, twirling the feather in her hand just above his leaking member. “It prolongs the pleasure, builds it … I know what I’m doing.”

“Yes, you do, perhaps too well,” he swallowed, beads of sweat dripping from his brow. “It’s just … very intense and I … I cannot…”

“You cannot control yourself,” she finished, licking her lips. “That’s part of the fun, Jean-Luc. Losing control, letting yourself bask in pleasure. Let me pleasure you…”

With that she began slowly stroking his cock, moving the foreskin over the tip, then gently tugging it down, rubbing her thumb under the head. He gasped and trembled, surrendering to her touch.

“Whatever makes you happy,” he sighed, and couldn’t help but return her huge smile as she resumed her prior attack on his manhood. 

Carefully peeling back his foreskin again, exposing the sensitive flesh beneath, she took the feather between her fingers and began to lightly saw it back and forth over his slit.

“Merde!” he cried out, thrusting his hips at the ticklish pleasure that shot through him. He began to half-laugh, half-whimper as she continued her careful movements over his shaft, sliding the feather down to the base, then back up to tease his frenulum, making him squirm, before returning to his slit. Beads of precum wet the feather as she circled over and over, enjoying his responses, as well as the gentle caress of his fingers against her ripening sex. He wasn’t the only one squirming.

“Oh god, Jean-Luc,” she moaned, thrusting her hips against his talented hand as he slipped under the lace.

“Beverly,” he growled, feeling her heat and wetness. She was incredibly ready for him. He slipped first one then two fingers inside her, rubbing her gently.

At that moment, Beverly’s eyes widened, as if remembering something important. With a determined look, she grasped the base of his cock, holding it upright, flicking the feather faster and faster over his most sensitive area. 

“Beverly! Wait!” he cried out as his orgasm came upon him suddenly. Looking into her eyes at the peak of pleasure, he saw her smile as she watched his cock twitch – she wanted to watch him cum. His ejaculation seemed to drag up the shaft slowly, the pleasure agonizing as she dragged his orgasm from him, her hand pumping his shaft as the feather did its wicked work on the underside of his cock.

“Let go,” she urged in a rasped, wetting his fingers as she trembled in her own small release.

“Beverly!” he screamed, semen bursting from the tip as she continued her stimulation, drawing out his trembling pleasure. His whole body flushed, then relaxed, shuddering in the aftermath of his release. She continued to softly stroke him, bringing him down from his climax.

“Beverly,” he said in a low voice, trying to catch his breath. “I’m sorry…I…it just happened.”

“I know, I made it happen,” she smiled, swiping the feather over his incredibly sensitive tip.

“Oh god, too much!” he cried, squealing at the sensation as he squirmed away from her. 

“I hope … you’re not angry?” she asked tentatively as he caught his breath. He smiled reassuringly back at her.

“No, of course not. I just thought …”

“You wanted to be inside me,” she whispered, drawing him in for a kiss. “Jean-Luc, I wanted that, too, but I don’t think it’s wise right now.”

He looked back at her, horrified that he hadn’t thought her condition might preclude them from intercourse. They’d just made love three days ago.

“It’s alright,” Beverly said. “I went for a check up today, and I think we may have been a bit too…enthusiastic last time. Being so close to the due date…Alyssa thinks its best to curb things a bit…”

“And you were going to tell me when?” he asked, concern and slight annoyance in his tone. “What if I had-”

“I’m sorry, I … I got caught up in the moment and I forgot until…well, until your fingers slid inside me…”

“Did I hurt you, hurt the baby,” he asked in near panic.

“No, no,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Everything’s fine – it’s just…you’re very well endowed, and there is a possibility intercourse could induce labor, so… I’m sorry, Jean-Luc…”

Beverly trailed off and moved away from him, her face flushed in embarrassment and a bit of shame at not remembering to tell him. 

“Hey,” he rasped, grasping her hand and pulling her to his chest, hugging her to him. “It’s alright. I understand…I’ve been a bit forgetful myself lately.”

She looked up at him sadly, stroking his face. “I noticed,” she replied. “Jean-Luc, I really do want to have you tested…I’m worried-”

“Shhh,” he whispered, resting his hand on the side of her belly. “I don’t want you to worry about anything but our little girl.” Sliding down her body, he kissed her stomach. They both gasped, then smiled as they felt the child within her kick strongly. 

“I love you,” Beverly declared as she dragged her husband up for a deep kiss. Once they parted, she looked seriously into his eyes. “Your children need their father, Jean-Luc. We need to know what’s happening to you, if it’s-”

“I know,” Picard nodded, looking away. 

“I know you’ve been trying to hide it.”

“But I can never hide from you – you’re my hiding place,” he whispered, kissing her cheek.

“I’m so afraid of losing you,” she admitted, tears stinging her eyes. 

“Alright … I’ll go tomorrow,” Picard sighed, agreeing to her request more easily than she had anticipated.

“We will go tomorrow,” she corrected, kissing him again. “And whatever it is, we will get through it … together.” 

“Yes,” he breathed, laying her gently on her back. “Now … I believe I read somewhere that the endorphins released after orgasm can help lull both the mother and unborn child to sleep.”

“Did you now?” she smiled as he wiped away an errant tear that was running down her cheek.

“Mmm,” he groaned, kissing her gently, then trailing his lips down her body. He spent what felt like hours licking and suckling each breast in turn as his right hand removed her panties, his fingers teasing her sex softly to an excruciating peak.

“Jean-Luc, please,” she gasped. He smiled, then picked up the feather, still wet with his own release.

“Oh no, you can’t be serious,” she swallowed, watching him give her a satisfied smirk as he tickled her ribs lightly.

“Only to bring you pleasure, my dear,” he declared, wickedly dragging the soft device over her belly, then up to her hardened nipples, bringing her to almost unbearable arousal. But it was when the feather trailed lower, over the curve of her stomach and down below that she squealed and gasped.

“Oh, Jean-Luc, please…please…” she begged as his lips followed the feather. Giving her an intense look of love and desire, he began to lap at her opening as his fingers parted her sex, exposing her sensitive nub to the cruel rasp of the feather.

“Oh my god!” she cried out as he swirled the feather over her clit.

“Turnabout is fair play,” he growled, licking gently around her outer lips as he teased her to insanity, until wetness was pouring from her and her inner lips were suckling at his tongue, trying to drag it inside her.

“May I?” he asked, seeking permission to slide his talented tongue into her moist depths.

She could only bite her lip and nod, drenched in sweat and trembling in need. 

“I’ll be gentle, mon coeur,” he promised. Parting her lips with his left hand, he circled her opening and then slid his tongue inside her, teasing the upper walls as her pussy clenched on his slithering advances. His other hand moved the feather furiously over her clit, making her scream.

“Let go,” he urged, moaning against her.

“Oh god, oh Jean-Luc it’s…oh god…fuck!” she screamed, her hips arching and thrusting as Picard gripped her bottom to hold her to his mouth. The feel of the feather tickling her button while his tongue licked her sensitive flesh had her convulsing and whimpering in pleasure. He suckled on her release, then suddenly dragged his tongue out of her and flicked it over her clit lightly. He drew the feather down her convulsing sex, and in a desire to bring her to new heights, decided to slide it inside her.

“Oh my god!” she gasped, feeling the soft rasping against her inner walls, along with the flickering licks of his wet tongue against her throbbing nub of pleasure. When he found her special spot inside with the feather, tickling it roughly, she arched up again, cumming even harder than before, squirting over the feather and down his hand.

“Oh, oh, enough, please,” she begged, the sensation driving her wild with pleasure.

But he didn’t stop – not until he knew she was truly satisfied. 

Suddenly the image of her writhing in pleasure began to blur, then fade as the feel of cold water hitting his chest roused Picard from his memory and back to reality.

It was 2399. He been daydreaming since he awoke, and was startled by how real it had all felt. The memories became more erotic as he entered the shower, and he now found himself covered in soap, rubbing his aching member. Leaning an arm against the shower, he rested his head against it, caught between grief and the need for release. His new body was indeed fully functional, but what use was it now? She was gone. He had nowhere to hide.

“Beverly,” he moaned, his hand speeding up, trying to recapture the memory, to find release. His hand was no replacement for her touch, but he tried to pretend, tried to get back to that bed nearly 10 years ago, watching her writhe in ecstasy as she cried out his name. It was the remembrance of her taste that finally sent him hurtling over the edge, his cock spasming as he came. How pathetic, he thought to himself, tears stinging his eyes. And he wept, wept even as he found his release. It was empty, joyless, a mere function of his new body that he wished he could forgo. He knew she wouldn’t begrudge him this, and remembered how much she loved to watch this very act, but it still shamed him. 

Finally, he turned off the water, grabbing a towel and stepping out of the shower, trying to compose himself. He had work to do. But everything here reminded him of Beverly, in ways that it hadn’t before. 

Opening a dresser draw to grab his civilian clothing, Picard gasped as he came across a photograph long forgotten, buried in the back underneath an old pair of trousers. He had meant to place it in his family album, but ultimately decided it was too personal. There was nothing lewd about the image – far from it. It evoked a warmth and love that made his face frown, his eyes mourning the comfort that was lost now. 

They were in the living area of his home. Beverly was nursing their newborn daughter, with Rene gently stroking his sister’s head. Picard had his arm wrapped around Beverly, kissing her temple gently – he remembered inhaling her scent – as his daughter’s tiny hand gripped his outstretched index finger. All were unaware that Laris had witnessed the scene and decided to capture the moment. 

A soft sigh of longing escaped Picard’s lips, followed by a sob as he fought to keep the most horrific day from his mind, the day that would break apart his family forever…

TO BE CONTINUED…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed the TNG novel "Death in Winter," so this story pays homage to how Picard and Beverly got together in that book. Their son is also named Rene in my story (after Picard's deceased nephew), just like the TNG novels. However, I chose to have Rene born in 2386 (one year before the Romulan sun's supernova in 2387). I'm not sticking to all the events of the novels - just making a nod to "Death in Winter," because they FINALLY got these two star-crossed lovers together, and I want to believe it's still Canon in Picard somehow.


	3. Shattered Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picard is thrust back into a horrible memory. No smut here - pure angst and family drama, and a possible character death. I know it's been awhile, so this chapter is a bit longer. Thanks for hanging with this story! It's slowly developing. Feedback is much appreciated!

2399, Chateau Picard

“Mes cheris,” Picard whispered, unable to look away from the captivating image of his family, a tear streaking down his cheek. A gentle knock on the door caused him to jump and shove the memory behind his back before angrily wiping at his eyes.

“Sir, are you alright?” Laris called. She’d heard him. She knew. She and Zhabon knew more than even his closest friends from his days on the Enterprise. They were the ones that kept him from the brink in those days after his life came crashing down around him…

2392, Chateau Picard

It was around 12:30 in the afternoon. Their daughter, Adele, nearly a year old, was perched in a high chair and pleasantly humming as her father introduced her to a few new foods. Rene, now five, chewed happily on his sandwich, occasionally making silly faces at his sister and encouraging her to eat with him.

“Papa, when will momma’s message come?” Rene asked, his grey eyes tinged with concern.

“Soon, mon chou,” Picard replied softly, smiling as his daughter cooed at the taste of a mashed banana. 

“You said that yesterday,” the boy complained, biting his lip as he hopped off his stool to come closer to his sister. 

“I know,” he sighed. “I wish I had a better answer for you, son.”

“I miss her,” Rene declared, his lower lip pouting as he fought back tears and tried to focus on his sister. Picard recognized the action – he was trying to be brave like he had promised his mother before she had left for Napenthe. Riker and Troi’s eleven-year-old son, Thad, had taken ill, and Beverly was determined to see what she could do to help. 

They had discussed going as a family, but decided their children might be too distracting for Beverly to get any real work done. (Besides, she would already have her hands full with five-year-old Kestra, who had grown to be nearly as inquisitive as their own son Rene). The rest of the Picards would visit in a month’s time, once Beverly had settled and hopefully discovered some answers for the troubled couple and their son.

Picard was in the midst of compiling his memoirs, at Beverly’s encouragement, and had Laris and Zhabon to assist him with the children. Rene had begun school that fall, and Adele was an incredibly content and happy baby, sleeping mostly through the night. Picard worried his sweet daughter might be more of a handful as she grew, but she had already stolen his heart with her bright blue eyes that mirrored her mother’s.

Picard secretly shared his son’s concern over having not yet heard from Beverly, and planned on reaching out to Riker in the evening if there was still no word. Wiping his daughter’s mouth, then his own hands, Picard lifted Adele out of her cushioned high chair, cuddling her for a moment as he looked down to find his son’s worried gaze.

“I miss her, too,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead and gesturing for his son to follow him to the living area. Rene picked a book from one of the lower shelves, crawling onto the couch. Picard joined him, bouncing Adele on his thigh. He reveled in her short laughs and the way she tried to form her words. 

“Ah, you’re on the breath of language,” he smiled. “Go on now, dear, say it with me – papa.”

She repeated the word and his smile broadened. She’d been saying words here and there for the last few months. It never ceased to amaze him how wondrous it was to watch a child – his child - grow. Glancing over to Rene, he sighed happily – his boy was growing up so fast. In his hands was a “Tales of Shakespeare” illustrated book. It had been simplified, leaving out the darker, more complex imagery that often captured Picard’s imagination. Beverly had bought it for Rene on his fifth birthday, and Picard had been moved by the thoughtfulness of the gift. 

“Which tale are you reading today, mon chou?” Picard asked, his eyes focused on his little girl who gurgled happily on his knee.

“The Winter’s Tale,” Rene declared, showing his father the picture and short paragraph. “Papa, why are Mr. Shakespeare’s stories always so sad?”

“Well, not all,” Picard began somewhat defensively, then frowned, realizing not many had a happy end. 

“But Papa, people are always dying in his stories. It makes me sad.”

“I think perhaps Shakespeare was trying to help us understand that death is a part of life, to help us appreciate life, and its meaning.”

Rene frowned. “It’s … confusing.”

“Ah, well, I think I remember this story. I believe it is one of the few that does indeed have a happy ending, if you keep reading.”

Sighing, Rene closed the book and leaned on his father’s shoulder, reaching a hand out to play with his sister. 

“Rene, are you alright?”

“I love you, papa,” he said quietly, his eyes sad as he turned toward his sister. “And I love you, Adele.”

“What’s brought this on, eh?” Picard asked softly, placing an arm around his son after he shifted Adele gently to the floor, where several of her toys lay ready to occupy her.

“I don’t know,” Rene sighed, snuggling into his father’s embrace. “My stomach hurts.”

Picard felt his forehead, concerned. “You don’t feel warm. Perhaps you ate too many cookies before lunch?”

His eyes widened. “You saw?” Rene blinked, swallowing.

“I see all,” Picard teased, kissing his son gently and giving him a wink. “Perhaps we should get you some Earl Grey to settle your stomach, eh?”

The boy shook his head. “It’s OK. I just want to sit here with you and Adele for awhile.”

“Alright then,” Picard replied, scooping up Adele as she began to crawl too far from his sight.

“Bet she’ll be walking soon,” Rene declared with a small smile as Picard sat Adele between the two of them. He marveled at how gentle and loving the boy was toward his little sister. Having grown up with a fierce older brother, Picard had worried Rene would be jealous of his younger sibling, but Beverly had reassured him that it wouldn’t be the case. Looking at them now, he could see Beverly’s empathy and sweet nature in Rene. 

“Jean-Luc,” a voice called from the other room, dragging him from his peaceful revelry.

“Yes, Zhabon, what is it?”

“I think you should come to the study,” he began slowly, his face ashen. Laris was following close behind, and Picard could see the unshed tears in her eyes.

“I’ll look after the wee ones,” Laris said, swallowing and putting on a smile for them. Picard rose, trying to hide his own concern as he walked toward Zhabon. Rene looked up quickly, alarmed by his father’s sudden absence.

“What’s wrong, papa?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“Not to worry, son, I’ll be back soon, alright? You mind Laris, and look after your sister for me, alright?”

“Yes, sir,” he sighed, frowning.

Laris tried to put on a brave face for the boy, but he could tell something was dreadfully wrong. She pulled over a few of Adele’s toys, bringing her onto the floor.

“C’mon, Rene, help me with your sister, yes?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, grabbing a ball and rolling it toward her.

Picard gave his children one last look before turning to Zhabon.

“What has happened?” he whispered.

“Come with me,” Zhabon replied, his voice hoarse with emotion.

As they reached the study, closing the door, Zhabon gestured toward Picard’s desk, where an image of his old friend Commander – no, Captain – Riker could be seen.

“Will,” Picard called, hesitation in his voice as he placed both hands on the desk, staring back at his former first officer. He could see the red rimming his eyes, his face drawn. He knew that look. His heart sank. “Is everything alright? Has Beverly arrived?”

“I think you should sit down,” Riker urged, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Damn it, Will, just tell me!” Picard shouted suddenly, violently slamming a hand down on the table top. The action startled everyone, including Picard. He shook his head, pursing his lips and breathing deeply, trying to regain control. He knew why he was so short-tempered, so easily irritable, and at times forgetful. It wasn’t just his age, or his current anxious state. He hadn’t told Riker or Deanna about his condition, which Beverly had discovered just before the birth of their daughter. Irumodic Syndrome. 

The innovative treatments Beverly had come up with seemed to be easing the symptoms and even slowing the progression of the disease. It was only his latest results that made her comfortable enough to leave for Nepenthe. They both owed Riker and Deanna so much – and Beverly had spent the better part of a year tending to Picard and their new daughter. It was time to reach out – especially upon hearing about Riker’s retirement from Starfleet. The seriousness of Thad’s illness worried Beverly, as did the federation’s refusal to give her access to any kind of synthetic treatment.

“I’m sorry,” Picard whispered, swallowing hard. He sat down slowly, looking his friend in the eye. “Tell me what happened.”

Slipping comfortably into their old roles, Riker began to give Picard a report of the incident. 

“At approximately 0300 hours yesterday, Beverly’s transport picked up a distress signal – a crippled Romulan ship carrying approximately 30 wounded.”

Picard nodded, knowing his wife would insist on diverting their course to help the injured.

“The ship was drifting near the Artifact,” Riker continued, seeing Picard wince at the mention of the deactivated Borg cube. “They were able to rescue the survivors and bring them to the reclamation site.”

Tensing, Picard gave Riker a curious look. “That can’t be all, Will,” he rasped, bracing himself, wondering what could have gone wrong. A horrid thought crossed his mind. He gasped aloud at the image of it – had something happened to reactivate the Borg cube? Had Beverly been assimilated?

Riker could see the panic on Picard’s face. He knew the man long enough to recognize that old, far-away fear.

“It wasn’t the Borg, Jean-Luc,” Riker reassured him, hoping at least that would bring him some comfort.

Picard sighed in slight relief, but pressed, “If not the Borg, then what?”

“Beverly had stayed on board the transport ship, treating the wounded until they could be moved to the Artifact,” Riker sighed. Both men knew and admired Beverly’s dedication to what she saw as her primary duty – being a doctor. 

“Will, please,” Picard begged, becoming impatient.

“They’re still investigating the cause,” Riker continued, his brow furrowed, fearing how his friend would take the news, “but the ship … it exploded.”

“What?” Picard breathed out, as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

“That’s all I know, I’m sorry,” Riker swallowed, turning away to quickly wipe at a tear that had escaped.

“You’re sure she was aboard?” Picard rasped, looking for any sign of hope. His eyes were narrowed and glistening with unshed tears.

“Captain Crandall confirmed it,” Riker replied sadly. “I’m … I don’t know what to say. She was traveling because of us, and I feel so-”

“Not your fault, Will,” Picard choked out, looking away as he tried to process the news. “These things happen.”

Riker shot him a skeptical look. “Don’t do this,” he implored, knowing his friend was beginning to shut down. 

“Do what?” he barked back, his sharp reaction causing Zhabon to shift, reminding Picard he was still in the room.

“This has been a terrible shock,” Zhabon sighed, moving next to Picard and placing a hand on his shoulder. But Picard shrugged him off, standing up.

“Will, thank you for delivering the news personally,” Picard said, his voice wavering. “I’ll be traveling shortly to meet with Captain Crandall.”

“But you can’t just leave the children-” Zhabon began, but was cut off.

“You will tell them nothing until I return,” Picard replied sharply, staring down Zhabon with a hard look that Riker knew all too well.

“Jean-Luc,” a female voice called from the monitor, shaking Picard from his anger. The dark-haired empath appeared behind Riker, gripping her husband’s shoulders.

“Deanna, please,” Picard begged, shaking his head.

“You know Beverly was so dear to us, and I know how difficult this must be for you, how much you loved her,” she began slowly. “But Zhabon is right. Your children need their father. Beverly’s gone. Let Captain Crandall and his team do their job. Will and I know them – they’re professional, good people.”

“They’re Starfleet,” Picard said bitingly, looking away.

“You loved Starfleet once,” Deanna reminded him, knowing all too well the scars that lay hidden following his forced retirement and the hard feelings that lingered.

“Perhaps too much,” he half-laughed sadly. “Sometimes I wonder … I dedicated my life to a system, a philosophy, and sacrificed so much time and energy to my career, my duty …”

“And you loved that, too,” Deanna reminded him.

“I loved her,” he whispered brokenly. “But I couldn’t tell her. Yes, there was guilt, because of Jack, because of how far back those feelings went … but it was more than that. I put my dedication to Starfleet ahead of any dreams I had of starting a life, a family with Beverly. And as the years rolled by, I found I wanted it more and more. Now, just when I’ve been able to take hold of that dream, it’s ripped from me, and I can’t … I can’t truly believe it’s happened so senselessly… I can’t believe it, Deanna, I can’t…”

Picard gasped, then shuddered, collapsing into his chair as the weight of his grief washed over him. Leaning his elbows on the desk, he hid his head in his hands as he felt the tears come, his whole body suddenly wracked by sobs. 

“I know,” Deanna whispered, tears streaking down her cheeks. Wishing she could be there to comfort him, she reached out with her mind, trying to ease him. She’d seen it before, when his brother and nephew had died senselessly in a fire on the same vineyard where he now was experiencing another heartbreak.

Zhabon slipped out quietly, knowing his wife might be of better use to the grieving man than he at the moment. He walked back into the living area to see Laris still occupying the children.

“How is he?” Laris whispered, eyeing the young boy who was obviously catching onto the fact that something was terribly wrong.

“As you’d expect,” Zhabon sighed. “I’ll stay with the children. Go to him. Maybe you can help.”

Nodding, Laris kissed Zhabon on the cheek as she rose, stopping when she felt a tug on her clothing.

“Please tell me,” Rene implored, fear in his eyes. “It’s momma, isn’t it?” 

“It’s not for me to say,” Zhabon replied matter-of-factly, picking up the boy. “Your father is going to need you to be strong right now, for you and your sister’s sakes. I know it’s hard. You know that Laris and I came from a world of loss and heartache.”

“Momma told me a little,” the boy nodded. 

“Well, I’ll let you in on a secret,” he whispered. “Whenever I feel afraid, or sad, I think of Laris, of how much I love her, and it gives me strength. You must do the same. Think of your sister, your mother, your father…remember how much they love you.”

“She’s not coming home, is she?” Rene asked, tears in his eyes.

Zhabon sighed. “Give your father some time and I’m sure he will explain everything.”

Rene looked away, anger crossing his face as he wiggled from Zhabon’s grasp until he was standing firmly on the floor. “I will wait for papa,” he frowned, crossing his arms, his lower lip pouting. He was so much like his father, Zhabon thought.

“Thank you, Rene,” he sighed, picking up Adele and settling on the couch. Patting the cushion, he looked at the boy. “Care to join us?”

“No, I’ll wait here for papa,” Rene said flatly, refusing to move from the spot as he watched Laris enter his father’s study. 

With a hesitant knock, Laris entered to find Picard staring blankly at a wall. Seeing that he had ended the transmission with the Riker family, she made her way over to him, smoothing a hand across his back.

“I’m so sorry,” she rasped, barely able to hold back her own tears as she looked him over carefully. His features were drawn, his face frowning and wet from tears, eyes bloodshot. He was breathing deeply, in and out, as if forcing himself to take the next breath. He didn’t speak for a long time, and when he did, it startled her.

“I can’t do this without her,” he said in a low voice she hardly recognized.

“You can,” she tried to reassure him. “You have Zhabon, and me, and the vineyard and-”

“It’s not enough,” he rasped, still staring straight ahead. “You know I’m sick, my condition will only worsen. And I have two young children who need a vibrant, hopeful upbringing that I can’t provide.”

“Jean-Luc, you haven’t even begun to grieve-”

“One must consider practical matters even in the midst of grief, Laris,” he swallowed.

Shaking her head, she looked at him angrily. “So what? So you abandon your children – Beverly’s children – and do what? Sit here and wait for death to take you?”

“What the hell am I supposed to do?!” he shouted, hitting the desk with his fist again as he choked back a sob. “Will is convinced that she’s gone. There’s nothing left of her – everything was destroyed in the blast. And they don’t even know what caused it.”

“Are you convinced that she’s gone?” Laris asked tentatively.

“I … I don’t know,” he admitted brokenly. “I need to see for myself.”

“Then what’s all this talk of not being able to care for your children?” she asked, a bite in her tone, obviously displeased with his line of thinking.

“We always know there are risks, but to have it happen this way … so unexpected. And for Will and Deanna to be so certain that she’s gone…I don’t know, I never imagined raising our children without her. And now with my illness … I fear I won’t be able to care for them much longer, not without … damaging them emotionally or psychologically.”

“Jean-Luc, you’re the bravest, most honorable human I have ever met,” Laris said firmly. “If anyone can rise to a challenge such as this, it is you. And you are not alone. I promise you.”

Shaking his head, Picard took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “I don’t know what to tell him,” he whispered, referring to his son. “I don’t know what to tell myself. I can’t see how she could have survived. But I feel … I feel I need to see it for myself, to have certainty.”

“Then do what you must, but you’re certainly not going alone,” she insisted, still upset at the idea of him leaving. “Zhabon can accompany you. I’ll stay back and look after the children.”

Picard shook his head. “I have another companion in mind,” he rasped. Laris gave him a confused look before realization washed over her face.

“Wesley?” she asked. “Does he even know about what happened to his mother?”

“Not officially, though I’m sure he’s somehow aware,” Picard sighed. “Rene was,” he added in a hushed voice. “Said his stomach hurt. I told him it was probably the cookies he ate…”

Picard trailed off, the happy image of just minutes before piercing him. So much of Beverly was alive in both his children, and in Wesley – how could he face them?

“There’s nothing you could have done,” Laris said softly, seeing the regret on his face.

“I should’ve been there,” he growled in frustration. “Perhaps I could have noticed something …”

“Or you could all be dead,” Laris reminded him. “You know better than anyone that we cannot live in the world of what ifs. Now, if you’re not up for contacting Wesley, I can…”

“No, I’ll make the call,” Picard insisted, waving her off. 

“Alright then. And if you need to travel to the Artifact, to find some closure, Zhabon and I will tend to things here until you return,” she promised, eying him carefully. “But you must promise me two things.”

“Let me guess…”

“One, you do not go alone,” she insisted.

“And two?”

“That you return.”

Picard considered her terms, nodding before standing up.

“It shouldn’t be a dangerous journey,” he contended, rubbing his brow as he recalled Beverly saying something similar just the week before.

A piercing cry shook them both from their conversation. 

“Sounds like Adele is becoming unsettled,” Laris sighed. “Perhaps you should speak to Rene before anything else is considered. He’s very anxious.”

“I know,” Picard sighed, wiping a hand over his face. “Could you please send him in here?”

“Of course. Do you want me to stay?”

“No … why don’t you see if you can get Adele down for a nap?”

Nodding, she turned to leave, but couldn’t help but look back at this man that had taken her and her husband in. His shoulders were hunched as his eyes fixed on a picture that sat on his desk. He looked so weary and broken, even more so than when he had been forced into retirement.

“Oh, Jean-Luc,” she sighed, moving to enfold him in a warm embrace. He let her hold him, but she could feel him tensing, uneasy. Her efforts to comfort him would do little good at the moment. “You will find your way,” she said, trying to reassure him. “And perhaps there will be, what do you humans call it, a miracle?”

Sighing deeply, Picard let out a long breath, considering her statement. “If there is such a thing, I do fear the Picard family may well have run out,” he replied sadly, patting her on the shoulder to thank her for her kind gesture.

“What will you tell Rene? Or Wesley for that matter?”

“The truth,” he sighed. “What little I know of it.”  
“Alright then, I’ll fetch him,” Laris said, giving him a short embrace before leaving his office. Picard slowly sat at his desk, feeling sick to his stomach. He unconsciously picked up the framed picture of his family, taken by Laris just days after Adele was born. It was a candid moment, Beverly feeding Adele as the rest of the family flanked around her on the couch. A creeking sound shook him from the memory as he saw the door open slowly to his office, his son peaking around the frame. Picard had to steal himself upon seeing him, tears springing to his eyes as he recognized every part of Beverly that was still alive in him.

“Mon chou, come here,” Picard whispered, tapping his thigh. Rene rushed to his father’s side, opening his arms as his father picked him up and sat him on his lap. 

For a while they sat together that way, Picard smoothing a hand over his auburn hair, kissing his brow, as Rene handled the picture his father had been holding. So many had often remarked at how much the boy resembled his father, but in this moment Picard saw only Beverly’s face in him, the softness in his eyes, the sharper cut of his cheekbones, the red tinge of his hair.

“Adele was so small,” Rene remarked, causing Picard to refocus on the picture.

“Yes,” he rasped. “Time moves quickly, even more so as you get older.”

Looking up at his father, Rene studied him carefully. 

“Something has happened to momma,” Rene said, more a statement than a question.

“Yes,” Picard replied in a low voice, struggling to hold back his emotions. 

“Did she die?” he asked, biting his lip, trying to be brave for his father. The two were indeed very much alike.

“Why would you think that?” he asked, delaying the inevitable.

“I can see it in your face,” he shrugged. “It’s how you look when you have bad dreams.”

“Oh? You’ve seen me have bad dreams?”

“Sometimes, on the couch … you frown and groan … you have them a lot lately,” Rene admitted sadly. “Momma said it was because you weren’t feeling well, but that she was making you better.” A flash of panic crossed the boy’s face. “If momma’s gone, who will make you better?”

Picard hadn’t realized Beverly had addressed his condition – even in such a vague way – with their son, and he knew the fear the boy must be experiencing. 

“It’s alright,” Picard whispered, pulling him close, trying to reassure him. “We will figure things out, but first, we must talk about your mother.”

The boy winced but nodded, bracing himself again his father. Picard could feel Rene trembling, making his own heart ache.

“Rene, you know how much your mother loves to help people, loves being a doctor,” Picard began slowly, trying to find the right words. As captain, he’d delivered news like this to many, even to children as young as his son – including Wesley Crusher. The memory made him shudder, realizing the parallel. And Beverly had been nearly five when her own parents were killed. Picard had never been superstitious, believing himself beyond such foolishness, but in this moment, he felt as if perhaps there was such a thing as being cursed.

“Papa?” Rene asked hesitantly, bringing Picard out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat, his eyes softening.

“The transport ship your mother was on encountered a number of injured Romulans,” he explained, hoping the boy would sympathize with them based on his affection for Laris and Zhabon. “Many were injured. Your mother was tending to the wounded as others attempted to get them all to safety … Then suddenly there was … the ship your mother was on … it exploded.”

Rene gasped. “Momma was on the ship?”

“They think so,” Picard replied sadly.

“What do you mean think?” Rene pressed, his breathing excellerating.

“There was a lot of confusion, and they are not sure what happened, what caused the explosion,” he explained. “That’s why I’m going out there, to find out what happened.”

“I wanna go with you,” Rene urged, grasping his sleeve.

“No, mon chou,” Picard replied softly. “You must stay here with your sister. It could be dangerous.”

“Then I don’t want you to go,” the boy cried, hugging his father tightly. “Let someone else figure it out. Momma’s smart, and brave – maybe they were wrong and she’ll come home. You have to stay, papa, please…”

Feeling his son’s body shake, Picard held him close, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He was at war with himself, unable to choose. Laris was right, Rene and Adele needed him here. But how could he carry on without certainty? Without knowing for sure what had happened?  
Both of them were roused from their sorrow when they heard the sound of breaking glass. Rene had dropped the framed picture in his desire to grab tighter hold of his father.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in a small voice as Picard hushed him and reached down to grab the broken frame.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, placing the object on the table. Seeing Rene begin to reach for it, he gently grabbed his son’s hand. “No, Rene, there’s broken glass, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Frowning, he shifted in his father’s lap, leaning against his chest as he looked at the picture underneath the shards. Picard’s eye was drawn toward it again as he felt his son cuddle him, crying softly. The picture began to blur as tears filled his eyes. 

“Jean-Luc…”

A soft whisper nudged him from his tortured state.

“Jean-Luc.”

Blinking and shaking his head, Picard looked up to find Laris standing in his … bedroom? Wondering how he had gotten from office to the bedroom, he realized his son was no longer there. 

Seated on the floor, Picard glanced down to find himself hugging his dog, Number One. It was 2399 – he had again gotten lost in a memory. The picture, which he had tucked back in the drawer just moments ago, now lay in his hand, the happy moment haunting him. The memories were turning into nightmares – waking ones. Something was very wrong – was it his new body, or was something else at play? He couldn’t be sure, but as he met Laris’ concerned gaze, he knew he would have to find out soon, or his new lease on life might be short-lived.

TO BE CONTINUED…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoy writing Picard as a father - I think he would have been a wonderful one after his years on the Enterprise brought him around on children.  
> I did a lot of math based on Memory Alpha and the events of Picard, so I lined up everything as closely as possible to "canon." I couldn't imagine Beverly not getting involved with Riker & Troi's son and his illness - she could never just sitting back and allow him die. Something must have prevented her from saving him, and this is part of my explanation for that.  
> Things don't look good for Beverly here - did she somehow find a way to survive or did she indeed perish in the explosion? Stay tune...


End file.
